A Reluctant Romance
by Melpomene Rose
Summary: Young queen Relena has been forced to marry the king of Romagna, a cold and distant young man. But what about the dashing young man who rescued her in the forest? 1xR, of course! CHAPTER 1 REVISED!
1. Chapter 1

(Soundtrack for the revision: Second Suite in F-Gustav Holst)

Hi minna! I was reading through this the other day as I was working on the third chapter and discovered how displeased I was with chapter 1. So, I decided to revise this story and make it much better. This chapter definitely needed some fleshing out and back story/exposition, so that's what I've decided to do! Keep your eyes peeled for the revised chapter 2, I'm halfway done with it, and hopefully you'll like it. I haven't abandoned my other stories, but I've been having a rather rough time of it lately and so my muses seem to have deserted me in regard to them. I'm not gonna give up though! Nope nope nope!

Oooh…I think I've rambled enough. So, without further ado, I present to you…the Revised chapter 1 of "A Reluctant Romance"!

Please enjoy!

All Standard Disclaimers Apply (ASDA)

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With a short scream of indignation the young queen hurled the white satin dancing slippers at the door.

"How dare they force me into marriage! I am their queen! My word is law in this land! How dare they force me to take a consort," she muttered angrily under her breath before breaking into tears. Unsteadily she moved towards the large bed in the center of the chamber. She knew she couldn't hide forever, she was required to attend the ball even though everything in her being wanted her to climb out of the window and escape into the forest.

Queen Relena Rhiannon Larenya Peacecraft had been crowned the queen of Cinq when she was merely fifteen years of age. That had been almost eight years ago and her council decided it was time for the young queen to take a man to be Prince Consort. When first they mentioned their decision, Relena had politely brushed them off, confident in her abilities as ruler.

"But your Majesty," they cried, "Cinq needs an heir and you are the last Peacecraft! You should have been married years ago, your stubborn insistence on the issue has caused much gossip, you know. Your Prince Consort will be arriving this afternoon; you will meet him formally at the ball tonight. "

They had never understood their young queen's reticence as to finding a suitable consort. Many kings (even the famed King Treize Kushrinada had sought her hand when she was younger, what a disaster that had been), princes, and other men of the nobility had courted her but always she refused their advances. Bards across the land sang ballads about her spirit and beauty. Thick, dark blonde hair intricately plaited emphasized the pale perfection that was her skin. Many of the women of her court envied her large violet eyes. She was tall and slender, her waist narrow and her limbs long and graceful. Though she was only 23, her countenance exuded intelligence and wisdom.

Though highly sought after, the young queen was devoted to her kingdom. Her family was long dead, killed during a botched attempt at a coup d'etat when she was 13. _The same year that…_she shook her head violently to dislodge the painful memory. She considered her subjects family, and followed the teachings of pacifism her father had taught her when she was but a babe. The army of Cinq was highly trained and was considered to among the best armies of the land. During times of war between countries, Cinq maintained its neutrality (AN: kind of like Switzerland).

Another ball, another evening of simpering ladies and shameless lords_. I detest it all..._she thought sarcastically as she crossed the room to fetch the battered dancing slipper. She sighed and began unlacing her day dress. Though raised in the lap of luxury, Relena had always desired simplicity. She expressed that desire by dressing simply during the day and changed into more formal gowns in the evening. Even though her gowns were of simple design, they were constructed out of rich fabric and painstakingly stitched.

Glancing at the ornate clock on the table near her bed, Relena was overjoyed to see that the ball was still five hours away. She smirked mischievously and began to redo the fastenings of her deep green day dress. It was of a very simple design; the bodice emphasized the narrow waist, the form of female 'perfection,' enhanced by rigid stays and numerous petticoats. The wide skirt flared from her waist, just long enough to barely brush the floor. The modest, but alluring boat neck neckline drew the gaze to the smooth white column of her throat, accented by the simple pendant she had worn since her coronation. The young queen left the dancing slippers where they were, and taking instead a pair of immaculate brown leather riding boots.

"They'll never even notice I'm gone!" she gleefully muttered to herself as she pulled on the boots. Relena sidled back to her wardrobe and retrieved a warm black cloak. Carelessly, she slung it over her shoulders and strode out of her chambers.

The large halls of the City Palace were deserted, most servants had been recruited to polish the ballroom floor or to put up decorations. For that, Relena was thankful. Fewer servants in the halls meant less chance of being caught. Not that her forays and escapes were a terribly well guarded secret anyway. Many a servant and courtier had speculated that her frequent disappearances involved her bodyguard a mysterious, taciturn man known as Trowa Barton. Many believed they were secret lovers and delighted in the idea. "How romantic!" the young ladies would sigh, lost in their daydreams of chivalry and courtly love. Of course, they were completely off base, but that didn't stop the gossip.

The trip to the stables was short, and the young queen breathed a sigh of relief when she reached the long building. She briefly wondered where Trowa was; but, used to his frequent disappearances and missions, she didn't dwell on it. She was going riding for a few hours.

Even if it was only for a few hours, the young queen would have peace and time to sort things out. Relena had always been considered peculiar, even as a child she had preferred solitary activities to the bustling events of the court. "Unladylike!" her mother had always exclaimed when discovering her daughter missing from lessons or social requirements. To say that she was the apple of her father's eye was an understatement. He had always induldged her, but they had grown even closer after the death of her older brother, Milliardo. As such, he always made her excuses and had even arranged for her escape a time or two.

"Pierre, I'm so sorry it took me so long to get away! I would have much rather spent time with you, instead of wasting it at that stupid council meeting. I'm getting married...well, they're making me get married..." She continued to talk breezily to her horse, Pierre, as she placed the saddle on his back.

Relena chattered aimlessly as she finished readying her horse. She swung herself easily onto his back, choosing to ride astride; eschewing the uncomfortable sidesaddle she was usually forced to use. Of course, if any of the court, council, or her ladies in waiting discovered her penchant for riding in any manner other than ladylike sedation, she would be considered even more peculiar.

They galloped into the forest, Pierre kicking up dust from the road. They rode deep into the woods, and Relena slowed him to a walk. After wandering aimlessly for what seemed like hours, she decided it was time to return to the palace and her duties. What she didn't expect, were the bandits.

She was brutally knocked to the ground by a burly man with greasy hair. It happened too fast for her to scream, the only sound escaping her lips a strangled gasp. He pushed her to the ground, his hands gripping her shoulders hard enough to bruise them. She struggled valiantly, but the man was just too strong and dug his meaty fingers even more deeply into the tender flesh of her shoulders.

"Hey look what I caught, Orrin! What's a pretty lady like you doin' out 'ere all alone?"

"None of your business, you cretin! Unhand me this instant, you filthy piece of..." Relena was cut off by a vicious backhand across her cheek. She opened her mouth to scream, to do _something_ to fight back.

_NO! I can't let this happen…I won't be a victim, not again!_

"You'll shut yer pretty mouth if you know what's good for ye! Orrin, Yorick, get over here!" He shouted, pressing his large hand across her mouth to muffle her. She promptly bit it, reveling in the coppery blood that seeped from the wound. "Ouch! Why you...!" He tossed her roughly against a tree. The breath left her on impact, her knees buckling from the lack of oxygen.

The other two men arrived, one took the reins of Pierre and the other just stood over her, next to her unnamed assailant.

"That's a fine lookin' woman you caught, Jon! Care to share?" He asked, a sick grin sliding across his dirty face. Frightened violet eyes widened in terror as the implication of his words washed over her.

"Why of course, Orrin!" The man called Jon smiled down at her before reaching for her bodice. Relena screamed then, her voice shrill with fear. She scooted back as far as she could from the filthy fingers, only to be stopped by the tree.

"Scream all you want, darlin', ain't no one going to hear yo- " He was cut short by the arrow that sunk itself deep into his chest. The man called Jon released her shoulders, slouching over, dead.

Sliding out from under the dead man, Relena made to run; but the man called Orrin grabbed her by the arm and pulled her to him. Another arrow buried itself in his chest and she let out a short scream and pushed him away from her, trying to shove down nausea as his warm blood fell upon her exposed skin. She scrambled away from the bodies, eyes frantically searching for Pierre. So involved was she in trying to escape that she failed to notice the shadowy figure on a massive black warhorse.

"Are you alright?" Came a voice, deep and carefully modulated. Relena looked up in surprise at her savior. He was handsome, to be sure, with unruly brunet (AN: that's the masculine form of 'brunette') hair and deep Prussian blue eyes. His eyes were slightly slanted, giving him an almost exotic look.

She stood slowly, her eyes never leaving his. She tried in vain to will her hands to stop shaking.

"I'm fine, thank you," she replied primly, wiping the blood from her split lip with the back of a long-fingered hand. She wasn't sure of this man, he seemed well bred and his clothes were fine. He looked tall, sitting on a midnight black warhorse; his shoulders broad and hands large and elegant.

"I'll get your horse," he said and trotted off in the direction her horse had taken off in, leaving her standing in the middle of a clearing with the dead bodies of her attackers marring the sweet perfection of the place.

The young woman gently probed her cheek, wincing and thinking to herself: _That's going to bruise...I wonder how I'm going to hide it...Hilde is going to kill me!_

Suddenly, Relena began to shake, never in her life had she been attacked and treated in that manner.

_ What about when you were 13…? _ A snide voice in the back of her head reminded her.

Her knees gave way and she slid to the frozen ground in a heap of skirts and petticoats. The last thing she saw as she slipped into unconsciousness was those tilted Prussian blue eyes.

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Ta daa! Well, I sincerely hope you enjoyed this new version of chapter 1. Please leave a review if you'd like, I'd really appreciate it if you did. Alrighty then, back to work on the chapter 2 revisions then...Ciao! 


	2. Chapter 2

**(Soundtrack for the rewrite: random assortment of Cascada songs)**

**Hi minna! Welcome to chapter two of "A Reluctant Romance" Because of the revisions of chapter 1, I decided to pretty much rewrite this chapter, instead of simply revising. I like this so much better than its first incarnation, because there's much more exposition, description, and better dialogue. So yeah, I really hope you enjoy this new version of chapter 2!**

**Please leave a review if you'd like, it really makes my day!**

**As usual, Heero and company don't belong to me (oh, I wish!), all Standard Disclaimers Apply (ASDA).**

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He had broken away from his traveling companions; their chattering had begun to wear on him. He wondered about the young queen Jay had betrothed him to. What would she be like? Would she be tall or short? Could he really stand being merely a Consort for the rest of his life? Prince Heero let his mind wander as his black warhorse strolled leisurely through the woods. He had heard that she was a competent and compassionate ruler, though he personally didn't agree with the tenets of pacifism. At least they had a standing army, or 'self defense force' as those of Cinq preferred to call it. He had also heard the bards tell of Queen Relena's beauty and kindness, of her wit and intelligence. Being naturally cynical, he doubted they were true. He knew his advisors wouldn't let him hear the end of it if they knew he was actually thinking about the woman he was to marry. Heero was not known for being overly effusive.

He had always been a rather stoic young man, his silent ways reaching back all the way into his childhood. Some said that he was the exact opposite of his older brother Duo, High King of Romanga. Where Duo was boisterous and charming, Heero was silent and withdrawn. Their parents had died when they were but small children from illness. And so their most trusted advisor raised him, a man known as Jay. The doctor trained the young princes in the arts of leadership and war. Prince Heero turned out to be a very apt pupil and had become the general of his older brother's armies, as it was customary for second sons to do.

He became a consummate warrior, learning how to shut off the emotions that were synonymous with weakness. But his coldness didn't put off the young ladies of his brother's court, one lady in particular. He scowled; Sylvia of Noventa hadn't taken the news of his betrothal very well. They had been lovers for a year, spending nights in each other's beds when her husband was away or when Heero had been at court between campaigns. Though he took pleasure in the arrangement, he had never fancied himself in love with the woman. She had been but one in a line of forgettable females, there but for sport. This queen would be no different from the simpering, superficial ladies that had surrounded him for his whole life.

He had ended the dalliance with her after Jay and his brother had told him of their decision. At first, the prince had been furious. How dare his brother sell him off to the land of Cinq for the sake of an alliance! He had sneered in disgust, Cinq was a pacifist nation…who in their right mind would send his best general to pacifist nation!? It took about two weeks for him to calm himself to the point of being able to stand occupying the same room as his brother, but Heero had never refused the directive. After all, he was a soldier and Duo, though his brother; was still his King.

Heero shook the unruly brunet locks that wreathed his head, trying to break himself from his reverie. It wouldn't do to spend the last hours before he met his future queen mired in thoughts best left alone.

The scream was very effective. Heero snapped to attention, his quick mind already analyzing the situation. The scream, slightly shrill, was definitely female. He kicked his Wing into a gallop and they headed off in the direction the scream had come from.

"Hey look what I caught, Orrin! What's a pretty lady like you doin' out 'ere all alone?" the rough brogue of a peasant echoed in the still evening. Heero crept silently up to the small group of men, one of who gripped a young blonde haired woman by the shoulders. Even he could see that the man was hurting her, even though she tried to keep a brave face.

She was tall and her eyes were an unusual shade of violet, fringed by dark lashes. Her form was pleasing, even to a stoic like Heero. Her gown was simple, but richly made of a heavy green fabric; he could see that she was from a moneyed family. Or her husband was wealthy...he didn't like that thought for some reason.

"None of your business, you cretin! Unhand me this instant you filthy piece of..." She was cut off by a vicious backhand across the left cheek, splitting her lower lip in the process. Blood slowly dripped down her porcelain chin. Heero felt himself fill with rage at the sight of the red fluid tainting the pale skin. No man of any worth would dare raise his hand to a woman. These peasants were scum...

"You'll shut yer pretty mouth if you know what's good for ye! Orrin, get over here!" He shouted, pressing his large hand across her mouth to muffle her. "Ouch! Why you...!"

Heero smirked slightly; she must have bitten the assailant. Even from here he could see the spark in her unusual eyes. Prussian blue eyes narrowed as the man threw her against a tree.

"That's a fine lookin' woman you caught, Jon! Care to share?" The man called Orrin asked, a sick grin sliding across his face. The woman paled dramatically and she struggled backwards.

Heero silently loaded an arrow into the crossbow he always kept as his side, waiting for just the right moment to step into the dangerous situation. He raised the crossbow, steadying himself in preparation for the fight that was to come.

"Why of course, Orrin!" The man called Jon smiled down at her before reaching for her bodice. The woman screamed again, her voice shrill with fear.

"Scream all you want, darlin', ain't no one going to hear yo- " He was cut short by the arrow that sunk itself deep into his chest. Jon released her shoulders, slouching over, dead.

Sliding out from under the dead man, she made to run but the man called Orrin grabbed her by the arm and began to pull the struggling woman to him.

Another arrow buried itself in his chest and she let out a short gasp and pushed the injured man away from her.

It was then that Heero chose to reveal himself. He walked Wing out of the brush. The woman on the ground turned in surprise, her violet eyes wide and scared.

"Are you alright?" He asked, his voice deep and carefully modulated. She was beautiful up close, but Heero could see a bruise forming on her cheekbone, marring the perfection of her pale skin. She stood slowly, and he could see that she was trying in vain to stop shaking.

"I'm fine, thank you," she said primly, wiping the blood from her chin with a long-fingered hand. He admired her fortitude. Any of the women he knew would have weeping, sniveling messes. Aside from the blood and bruised face, she looked to be a well-born lady. Her features were delicate, but he could sense the steel that lurked just beyond the surface of her countenance.

"I'll get your horse," he said and trotted off in the direction her horse had taken off in, leaving her standing in the middle of the clearing with the bodies of her attackers heaped at her feet.

Heero returned just in time to watch the woman sway and he leapt from Wing to catch her before she fell to the frozen ground. She fitted perfectly into his arms, and a feeling he had never felt before washed through him. He savagely quashed the warm feeling before it could get very far. The young man was already promised to the queen of Cinq, and developing feelings for a stranger he met in the wood was impractical. And if there was a feature that defined Heero, it was practicality.

He picked up a handful of snow and gently rubbed it on her smooth forehead, attempting to wake her. She groaned quietly, shifting in his arms. It was then Heero noticed that her intricate hairstyle had come undone, her long golden hair falling around her shoulders. Heero idly wondered if she would look quite so peaceful sleeping in his bed after a night of lovemaking. He shook his head violently to clear the thought from his head. He was a promised man, and there was no point in losing his hard heart to some random woman he rescued in the woods.

"Heero. There you are." The quiet voice of Wufei, one of his advisors, broke him from his reverie. "Quatre was wondering where you had gone."

"I needed some time to myself," he replied, his voice even and his eyes betrayed nothing.

"What happened here?" Quatre asked as Sandrock trotted up to them, his blue eyes widening in concern as they took in the limp form of the woman in his prince's arms.

"Some peasants attacked this woman. I couldn't just let them," Heero said. "I'm going to take her with us to the castle Cinq, there's bound to be someone there that knows her. One is dead, the other is merely unconscious, I suggest we take him to the authorities."

Wufei nodded as he dismounted and made his way to the unconscious bandit, on his face a sneer of disgust. _How dishonorable, attacking an unarmed woman. What cowards!_

Heero's attention was drawn to her fluttering eyelashes as she began to return to the land of the living. A moment passed, and he stared down at the woman in his arms…before her fist slammed into his face. Stunned more than hurt, he growled softly and held onto her tightly so she didn't hurt herself. She squirmed against him, and the feeling of her against him was deliciously forbidden.

"Madam, please stop your incessant wriggling! You're in safe hands now, there is no need to resort to violence!" He glared down at her, dark brown brows knitted together in a frown.

She stopped moving, violet eyes now clear and startled. He took a moment to scrutinize her more closely. Despite the bruise, split lip, and the gown spattered in mud and blood; she really was quite lovely. Dark honey blonde hair cascaded down over his hands at her shoulders like silk and she smelled of lilacs. Heero found that he wanted nothing more than to plunge his hands into that tempting hair and drown in her scent. An odd feeling, for even though he was a man experienced in the ways of women, he hadn't ever felt quite drawn to them as he did to this lovely stranger.

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**Yay! it's done. I really hope you enjoyed this installment of " A Reluctant Romance," and choose to show your love by reviewing...that would just totally make my day. Take care everyone, see you in chapter 3!**


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